


Don't Step On The Butterflies

by ErinPtah



Series: Truthiness And Relative Dimensions In Space [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Fake News FPF
Genre: Crossover, Fan Comics, Gen, Illustrated, Temporal Paradox, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-19
Updated: 2008-08-07
Packaged: 2019-04-16 18:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14171289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinPtah/pseuds/ErinPtah
Summary: "Stephen" travels with the Doctor at two non-parallel parts of their respective histories, and the timeline will never be the same.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Opening credit sequence: on [DailyMotion](http://www.dailymotion.com/sailorptah/video/x6bgmg_tds-who-op) or [YouTube](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXC1XFIA0v4)!

**Transcript  
  
** [reenk reenk reenk]  
  
Sarah Jane: Looks like we ended up in someone's hotel room, Doctor.  
  
Doctor: Close enough! We can just pop out to the beach from here. After that ice planet, we deserve a little sun . . .  
  
[CLICK]  
  
Stephen: I'm sorry...!  
  
You don't have to explain . . . I know why you're here. I've met one of you before. He had the same type of spacecraft -- I'd recognize it anywhere.  
  
So I know how you watch the timeline . . . how you show up when things need to be fixed . . .  
  
. . . which means I must have really screwed it up and I'm SORRY! [sob]  
  
Sarah Jane: All right, sir, sit down. Doctor! Lend this man your coat. And hurry!  
  
Now, take a deep breath and tell us exactly what happened . . .  
  
 **And so, Stephen confesses his time-bending sin . . . taking a vacation across the International Date Line.**  
  
Stephen: [sob]  
  
Doctor: Sarah Jane, this man is an idiot.  
  
Yes, I can see that, Doctor! But he's genuinely afraid. We can't just leave him like this.  
  
Doctor: What am I supposed to do about it?  
  
Stephen: Promise to fix it. Use lots of techobabble. You're good at that.  
  
Doctor: All right -- listen up! You've caused an excess flow of chronotons in the parallel temporal membrane. I can repair the damage with an ionic break. But you have to stay put for the rest of the weekend -- and don't step on any butterflies. Got it?  
  
Stephen: Yes, sir! And you won't press charges?  
  
Doctor: Not if you're good.  
  
Stephen: Thank you, sir!  
  
Doctor: Don't mention it. Come along, Sarah.  
  
Stephen: Do you want your coat back?  
  
Doctor: What? No, no, we won't need it for sunbath--  
  
Sarah Jane: [AHEM]  
  
Doctor: --for the ionic whatever-I-said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Earth: 2008.**   
_The Doctor is in his fourth incarnation. Stephen Colbert is 44. Sarah Jane Smith is 29._

The midday sun shone hot on the brilliant blue vista of the South Pacific. The light breeze stirred the fronds of the spindly palms, and the sea turned aquamarine where it kissed the white beaches as they stretched off towards the horizon.

Stephen watched all of this from the window of his air-conditioned hotel room.

It wasn't that he had some kind of aversion to the great outdoors. He even enjoyed spending time outside, as long as someone had vacuumed the area first. And this was a highly expensive private resort! They probably had enough cash to put a full-time landscape vacuumer on the payroll.

But when a Time Lord tells you to stay put, you stay put.

⇔

⇔

After staring moodily out the window for a while, Stephen crossed the room—avoiding the large blue box which stood in the middle of the floor—and flopped even more moodily down on the bed.

As he landed, something in his large brown coat went _squish_.

"What kind of benevolent guardian of space and time lends a man a coat that squishes?" demanded Stephen of nobody in particular, beginning to dig through the pockets. "Let's see . . . yo-yo . . . pair of scissors . . . catnip mouse—hm, fresh! . . . squeaky spider . . . key . . . comb, not that he looks like he's ever seen one in his life . . . aha! Squishy thing!"

The item in question turned out to be a bag of multicolored gelatin candies. Stephen pulled out half a dozen (not his fault; they were slightly stuck together) and popped them in his mouth as he looked over the pile of junk on his bed. How had all of this fit in one coat, anyway? Unless its pockets, like its owner's spaceship, were bigger on the—

—hang on a second.

_Key?_

Pausing in mid-chew, Stephen reached for the little key and plucked it from the pile, its fine silver chain unspooling as he lifted it into the air. "Definitely not an Earth key," he said out loud, then glanced cautiously at the blue box.

The Time Lord had given him strict orders to stay in his room for the rest of his vacation, and Stephen Colbert was very good at following orders. He hadn't really understood the explanation, but the thought of accidentally ruining the timeline made him want to curl up in a little ball and cry (which he had most certainly _not_ been doing in the bathroom when the ship materialized outside). He wasn't about to leave the room.

But the box was _in_ the room.

"And if that Time Lord hadn't wanted me to explore his ship," he reasoned, "he wouldn't have left a key with me, would he?"

Thus reassured, he hopped brightly from the bed, buttoned the much-lightened coat around himself, and stuck the dull silver key into the lock.

The door swung open.

"Huh," said Stephen, affecting the most nonchalant tone he could muster in the face of a physical impossibility effected by transdimensional engineering. "The last one was cooler."

⇔

"That really was amazing, Doctor!" exclaimed Sarah Jane as she returned to the TARDIS. She wore a floral-print swimsuit and sarong, there was a miniature pink umbrella tucked behind her ear, and she swayed a little in a way that suggested she had had gone through several similar umbrellas, along with the drinks that accompanied them.

"Damogran has nicer beaches," said the Doctor offhandedly as he scurried around the white TARDIS console to pull a lever. "But the rest of it is completely uninteresting."

"Mmhmm. And I bet it didn't have drinks like these."

"No, certainly not!" agreed the Doctor, circling the console in the other direction. "Though that would probably make it more interesting—I say! What are you doing here?"

Sarah Jane let out a gasp as she followed the Doctor's gaze.

She hardly recognized the man at the far end of the console room. When they had materialized in his room that morning, he had been disheveled, teary-eyed, and completely starkers. Now he cut an imposing figure in a crisp brown pinstriped suit, a pair of smart wire-rimmed spectacles, and what must have been enough hair gel to stun an ox.

"Welcome back!" he said brightly, flashing her a charming smile. "I've just been checking out the wardrobe. You have some truly hideous outfits in there—I mean, red plaid with pink and yellow lapels? Did a dye factory explode on that poor coat?—but I think this one shows off my figure nicely, don't you?"

"What are you doing here?" sputtered the Doctor.

"I just told you! Checking out the wardrobe. Don't worry, I'm still obeying your orders. All this is still inside the hotel, I know."

"Well, not any more," said Sarah Jane. "We just took off."

The intruder's eyes went wide. "Then—I've left the hotel room? Oh no! Am I causing some kind of temporal disaster just by being here?"

"Don't be silly," said the Doctor, waving a dismissive hand. "I made that up to keep you out of our way. You never even time traveled in the first place; you just crossed the International Date Line. That's not the point! The point is, you're a stowaway!"

"So was I," put in Sarah Jane, "and you've kept _me_ around."

Neither of the men paid her any attention. "I am not!" protested the newcomer. "You gave me a key! It's not my fault you took off!"

"I did no such thing!"

"Oh yeah? What's this, then?"

"That's . . . oh. I suppose that is a key," said the Doctor, deflating somewhat as the intruder held it up. "Must've left it in one of my pockets. You didn't leave my coat behind, did you?"

"Nah, it's in the wardrobe. I finished off the candy, though."

"You ate all my Jelly Babies?"

"I couldn't find the kitchen!"

Sarah Jane was secretly gratified to see the Doctor rendered speechless.

Taking advantage of the silence, she addressed the stranger. "You're taking this awfully well. The whole alien, spaceship, bigger-on-the-inside bit, I mean."

"Oh, that." He shrugged with exaggerated casualness. "It takes more than a transdimensional thingamajig to faze Stephen Colbert."

"That'd be you, then?"

"In the flesh." Another 500-watt smile. "You've probably heard the name. The Doctor told me it would go down in history."

⇔

**Earth: 1981.**  
 _The Doctor is in his tenth incarnation. Stephen Col-bert is 17. Jack Harkness is older than he has any business being._

Stephen was up a tree.

Just the thought of his imminent return to the socially sanctioned torture known as high school set his teeth on edge. As if that weren't enough, he couldn't turn a corner without running into a parent reminding him that he needed to get his grades up this year if he ever wanted to get into a good college and not be a _complete_ disappointment—or, worse, a housebound older sibling seething from a similar lecture (for a brother, "work harder so you can get your own place"; for a sister, "find a husband so you can get his") and itching to take it out on a safe target, which usually meant their youngest brother.

So, though the day was blazing hot and the sunlight unforgiving, he had no intention of being inside.

The tree in question, like its fellows in the orchard, was short and broad, putting Stephen just a few feet off the ground. It was enough. His legs were slung over a thick branch, his bare back against the trunk, a discarded T-shirt hanging a few branches below, and a ripe peach dribbling juice down his chin.

It didn't matter if he made a mess here. There was no one to watch him. No one to judge. No one to care.

Sucking gently on the sweet flesh, he allowed himself a low moan . . .

. . . which was utterly drowned out by a cranking, grating wheeze that reverberated throughout the orchard, while a breeze stirred the leaves and a faint blue light winked from between the trees.

Stephen couldn't imagine what kind of machine would make a noise like that. He would have bet anything it was old and rusty and dangerous; but it didn't make any further noise, and the next sound he heard was like nothing so much as the opening of a door, which made no sense at _all_.

All of this was followed by what sounded like a conversation. Stephen strained to make out the words.

"...best peaches in the galaxy," a chirpy British voice was saying. "No other planet's produce can hold a candle to South Carolina peaches. Fill 'er up!"

"What, the whole TARDIS?" came the refreshingly American reply.

"Nah, don't be silly. We could get the whole orchard in there, with room to spare. Just this bag, there's a good lad. Allons-y!"

Stephen couldn't believe it. Aliens had just arrived on Earth.

And they spoke _French_.

⇔

**The Vortex.**  
 _The Doctor is in his fourth incarnation. Stephen Colbert is 44. Sarah Jane Smith is 29._

Stephen couldn't help smirking a little at the two strangers, who were now both staring openmouthed. _They're probably awed to meet someone of such cosmic importance. I'd better be nice to—_

"You know this man?" asked the woman in the flowered sarong.

"Never seen him before in my life," replied the man in the stupid scarf.

"Hey!" exclaimed Stephen. "Time Lords really should know about important things like me!"

"I'm not a Time Lord," said the woman.

"Time Lady, then."

"Not that either. I'm a human. Sarah Jane Smith. He's the Time Lord—and _he's_ the Doctor."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Stephen promptly. "He doesn't look anything like the Doctor."

"Well, he changes—"

"Just a moment, Sarah," said the Time Lord who was definitely not the Doctor, holding up a hand for silence. "Now, Stephen, what _does_ the Doctor look like?"

"Tall, skinny, hair like a mutant hedgehog. Usually walks around in a suit just like this—must've come standard with the ship, because you have the same model, even though the decoration in this one is a lot more disco. Oh, and sometimes he puts on black emo glasses to make himself look smarter. It doesn't work, though."

"Huh," said Sarah. "Have you ever looked like that, Doctor?"

"No, never. He must have met a future version of me." The Time Lord looked slightly queasy. "I'm going to regenerate into a skinny bloke who wears _emo glasses?_ Rassilon help me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Earth: 1981.**

"Why am I the one doing all the work here?" teased Captain Jack Harkness, a sack of peaches slung over his shoulder.

"Aw, don't complain," replied the Doctor around a mouthful of fruit. (He'd been unable to resist having one. Just one.) "Wait'll you've had TARDIS peach cobbler. It's worth it."

"I'm not complaining, I'm just saying—hey, did you leave the door open?"

The Doctor swallowed the peach and licked his lips. "No."

"But you didn't lock it," observed Jack. He eyed the blue police box as it sat nonchalantly in the middle of a South Carolina orchard, a sliver of its orange interior visible through the open door.

"Weeeeell . . . no."

With a staccato nod, Jack set down the peaches and moved silently towards the opening.

"Oh, come off it, Jack. Bet you it's just a squirrel," said the Doctor brightly, clapping his companion on the shoulder before striding through the door. "It's probably more scared of you than you are of—"

"Hi!"

"Whoa!" exclaimed the Doctor, jumping backwards.

"Welcome to Earth!" cried the teenage boy in the TARDIS console room, running down the stairs to greet them. "I was just looking at your ship! It's _so cool!_ It's bigger on the inside! How do you _do_ that?"

"Some squirrel," quipped Jack.

"I'm not a squirrel! There must be some mix-up in your computers. Squirrels are the little brown furry things with the big tails that run around in trees. I'm a human!"

"Yes, yes, we know what you are," snapped the Doctor—more testily, Jack thought, than he needed to. "Who are you and what are you doing in my TARDIS?"

"Is that your word for spaceship? TARDIS?"

"No, our word for spaceship is _spaceship_. Will you just listen—"

"How does it fly? Rocket fuel? We've sent some rockets into space. Humans, I mean. The government says we landed one on the moon, the year before I was born, but my dad says it was all faked. Can you share your technology with us, or is it a Star Trek thing where you're not allowed? Or—you're not going to invade, are you? Because if you are, let me be the first to say I accept the dominion of our alien overlords . . . ."

The Doctor looked plaintively at Jack. "I'm just not getting through to him, am I?"

"Let me try." Clearing his throat, Jack stepped forward, proffered his hand, and flashed his most winning smile. "Hi."

The boy stuttered to a stop and held out his own hand, allowing it to be shaken. "H-hi."

"I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"

"Stephen," said the kid, beginning to blush. (Oh, yeah. Jack was _good_.) "Stephen Col-bert."

The name set off a twinge of familiarity in the back of Jack's mind, but he couldn't place it without context. He glanced at the Doctor, hoping for some kind of hint, but the Time Lord was glowering testily at nothing in particular. No help there.

Oh well. If this kid was famous for something, it probably hadn't happened yet as far as he was concerned. "Thing is, Stephen, we aren't here for anything big or impressive. We're just a couple of travelers who stopped in to pick up some of your peaches. I hope you don't mind."

"No! Not at all! You can eat my peaches any time you want!"

"Great!" interrupted the Doctor, carrying the bag past them. "Well, we've got everything we came for, so we'd better be off! Jack, show the gentleman to the door, please."

"You heard the man," said Jack, putting an arm around Stephen's shoulders and steering him in the right direction. "It's been lovely to meet you, but we need to get going."

They were almost at the door when Stephen pulled out of his grip. "Wait!" he said breathlessly. "Can—can I come with you?"

⇔

**The Vortex.**  
 _The Doctor is in his fourth incarnation. Stephen Colbert is 44. Sarah Jane Smith is 29._

"So you see," concluded Sarah Jane, "even though he's a different person, he's still the Doctor."

"I don't believe it." Stephen crossed his arms defiantly. He had some experience with completely altering his identity, but this sounded much more complicated (and less plausible) than growing a mustache and shelling out $20 for a fake ID. "If you're the Doctor, what was the last thing you said to me?"

"I don't know," replied the Doctor distractedly, running around the console to press a series of buttons and leaning back to keep an eye on a screen. "For me, it hasn't happened yet."

"But you were younger then. You're older now."

"Oh, that's just how regeneration works," chimed in Sarah Jane. "He looked even older before this. White hair and everything."

"So he's getting younger as time moves forward? Is this another time travel thing?"

"Nonsense," said the Time Lord. "I'm getting older in regular time. I just don't look it. But the reason I don't remember you _is_ a 'time-travel thing.' A past version of you met a future version of me. So I don't remember you because I haven't met you yet, even though you've met me; and the next time I meet you, you won't remember _me_ , because you won't have met me even though I've met you. Did you follow all that?"

"Don't patronize me, sir," snapped Stephen, scowling to cover the fact that he hadn't followed it at all.

"Excellent! Then you know why I'm going to take you back now."

"Yes—wait! What? No!"

"Oh yes!" The Doctor paused to shoot Stephen a disconcertingly broad grin before going back to the console. "Wouldn't want you to be missed back home, now would we?"

"I suppose not. The Nation would be devastated if . . . wait." Struck by a sudden flash of insight, Stephen shook his head to clear his mind's eye of the unfamiliar afterimages. "You're a time traveler! You can drop me back in my hotel room five minutes after I left, and no one will ever know!"

"Well, you're not a _complete_ idiot," observed the Doctor dryly.

"Oh, let him stay around for a bit, Doctor," urged Sarah Jane. "He seems nice enough."

"Yeah, what she said," echoed Stephen. "I'm nice! And you let me stay last time, whether you remember it or not!"

"I did? And you didn't destroy the TARDIS by the end of it?"

"Are you kidding? I'm surprised it hasn't fallen apart by itself, what with all the explosions that happen while you're tinkering with it."

"Well, that settles it," said Sarah Jane. "That was you he met, all right."

⇔

**Earth: 1981.**

Jack looked from Stephen to the Doctor. "What do you think? Could he tag along for a while?"

"Please?" added Stephen.

"Oh, no," said the Doctor. "No no no no no no no no no."

"But . . . !" The enthusiasm seemed to have drained from the boy, leaving him suddenly vulnerable. "But you can't just leave me here! Not now that I know there's more out there! You can't dump me back with my horrible school and my crazy family! I'll be good, I promise, I'll do anything you say, just please, please, please, don't leave me behind!"

"Doesn't matter how good you are," said the Doctor tiredly. "Space and time is no place for someone your age to go gallivanting about."

"I'm seventeen! I can take care of myself!"

Jack put a hand on Stephen's shoulder to calm him, then addressed the Doctor. "Only two years younger than Rose."

This was answered with silence.

"Let me talk to him a minute," said Jack, giving the boy's shoulder a quick squeeze before striding over to the Doctor and the peaches. The Doctor turned with Jack so that both were facing away from the guest, but didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Doctor, what gives?" murmured Jack, low enough that Stephen wouldn't hear. "He's just a lonely kid who could use a little adventure. Is there any reason not to take him?"

"Oh, no," replied the Doctor in a hushed voice, brow furrowed and eyes wide in that way he had when his brain was about eight steps ahead of the conversation at hand. "Just the opposite. I _have_ to take him."

He flicked his eyes towards Jack as if noticing the man's presence for the first time. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

⇔

**The Vortex.**

"Out of curiosity," said the Doctor as he wrenched a lever, sending the console room tilting precariously to the right, "what _was_ the last thing I said to you?"

Stephen, occupied with swinging his arms in a frantic attempt to stay upright, didn't answer right away. After he had crashed into the wall, in what he thought was a very dignified matter under the circumstances, he replied: "Um . . . well, you said I was the best companion you had ever had, and that next time I saw you I should say you said to take me wherever I wanted to go."

"Did I really? That doesn't sound like me."

"Yes," said Stephen firmly. "You really did. Really."

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes. Stephen arched his eyebrows threateningly at her, and she looked away, clearly discouraged by his intimidating presence.

Fortunately, the Doctor was too busy frowning at a readout to watch them. "I suppose I can let you pick one destination. Where to? There's a lovely nova going on near the Crab Nebula just a few thousand years ago. Jiangyin is nice if you catch it after the revolution—or before, but only if you happen to like cows. Oh, if you're hungry, we could drop by Milliways. The food's nothing special but the floor show is absolutely spectacular . . . ."

"Can we go to Pinewood Studios? In April 1964?"

Now the Doctor did look at Stephen, if only to make sure that he had heard right. "Pinewood Studios? The one in Buckinghamshire?"

"That's the one!"

"If you're sure," said the Doctor dubiously, twisting a knob before dashing around the console again. "Why, what's going on there?"

Stephen couldn't hold back his giddy grin. "They've just started filming _Goldfinger_."

⇔

**Earth: 1981.**  
 _Stephen Col-bert is 17. Stephen Colbert is 44._

Finds-most-nuts was having a harrowing day.

There was nothing unusual about the human pup in her orchard. They tended to throw sticks, but by this point Finds-most-nuts knew how to avoid them.

But then a big loud blue thing had appeared out of nowhere, and out had come a human adult and something that looked human but smelled very funny. Finds-most-nuts had kept a careful eye on them. Eventually they went back into the blue thing, along with the human pup, and vanished without a trace.

No sooner had Finds-most-nuts breathed a sigh of relief, though, than _another_ loud blue thing appeared, and out came a creature whose smell was entirely baffling: like the human pup but adult, with a heavy sheen of stress and the faintest whiffs of scents funnier than any Finds-most-nuts could have dreamed of.

After taking some fruit from her trees, _he_ went back into the blue thing, and _it_ vanished, also leaving no tracks.

No more alarming blue things appeared after that.

Finds-most-nuts held very still for the next hour, just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> See also: [Shoutouts & references](http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=26190&chapter=3) for serial 1.


End file.
